


Shipwrecked

by Archer85



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Marooned, Shipwrecks, alone together on an island, shipwrecked
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27292081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archer85/pseuds/Archer85
Summary: Rather than travel by land, Jaime and Brienne decide to sail back to King's Landing after they leave Harrenhal. However, due to a bad storm, they are shipwrecked alone together on a small island and must help one another survive. They must also contend with their rising affection and attraction to one another. (Rating for later chapters)
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 63
Kudos: 234





	1. The Island

**Author's Note:**

> I'll just confess, this is what I have been spending my time writing, instead of my other two WIP Braime fics. I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. Once I encountered this premise, I could NOT get it out of my head and I had to start it.

Brienne could not help but meditate on the irony of her situation, even as the cold sea water smacked her across the face in the dark, stinging the still sensitive wounds on her clavicle. When their party had left Harrenhal, they had decided to sail back to King’s Landing rather than go the rest of the way by land. Although they knew it would be longer, prevailing wisdom said it would be safer. 

The Gods apparently liked their little jokes. 

They had made it through the Bay of Crabs and into the Narrow Sea without incident. But somewhere between Claw Island and Dragonstone they had been blown off course by a terrible storm, one that stood a good chance of wrecking their ship. 

As the waves got really rocky and they headed into the worst of the storm, Brienne realized the ship was likely to capsize if they kept on their current course. However, the captain refused to listen to her and insisted it was safe to continue on. Brienne knew better and her oath pushed towards the actions that likely spared Jaime’s life, as well as her own. Unable to convince him to get into a lifeboat voluntarily, Brienne knocked him unconscious and dragged him into one, along with a sack of provisions she was able to cobble together in a hurry. 

With the crew occupied in battling the storm, she managed to get their small boat into the stormy water and rowed like her life depended on it away from the ship and back along the route that they had come. They had passed a tiny spit of land a few miles back, just as the sky had really begun to blacken, and Brienne knew it was her only real hope. 

The choppy waters tossed them furiously, but they never actually tipped over, a not inconsequential blessing. Although Brienne was bigger than him, Jaime was still a very big man and trying to keep his unconscious body afloat in a storm would likely have ended them both. 

Brienne rowed, and rowed, and rowed, her arms and healing wounds screaming for relief she could not give. In the pitch black, amidst the windy rain, she tried to make out the small scrap of land she knew was in their vague vicinity, but it was no use. 

Eventually she had to give her arms a rest, so she allowed them to float along for a time while she simply prayed for the rain to lighten up. Apparently, the Gods were not entirely against her, for soon she felt the heavy droplets become a fine mist, and eventually the clouds overhead began to part. 

The moon was not quite full, but it was nearly so, and with the light it offered, Brienne was just able to make out a sandbar due north west of where they bobbed in their lifeboat. With a destination in sight, Brienne picked up the oars again and pressed on. 

~*~

Predictably, Jaime came to just as they were within spitting distance of the island. 

“Gods woman, what the fuck did you do to me?” he asked, as he brought his left hand up to his forehead. 

“I knocked you unconscious. You were refusing to come with me, and I could not very well let you drown in that storm.” 

“You don’t know the boat would have capsized.”

“I do. I grew up on an island, and I assure you, I have more experience travelling the seas than you or most of the men on that ship. I would bet you every piece of gold in my dowry they are already dead.” 

As she said this, their boat hit land, and she immediately jumped out and pulled it fully onto the shore. Jaime tried to stand but was knocked over almost immediately by the combined force of the still moving ship and the unexpected weight around his waist. 

“What is this?” he asked, following the line of rope to the sack it held. 

“Provisions. What I could cobble together before getting you in the lifeboat. I did not want to lose them on the seas; you seemed the best anchor.” 

Jaime tried to untie the sack from around his waist but was so hampered by his single hand, he eventually concluded it was futile. 

“Can you–?” he barked at her, clearly annoyed that he needed help with such a minor task. 

Brienne moved to stand right in front of him, and methodically pulled at the knot along his waist. However, the sea water made the fabric of the rope bloated, heavy, and harder to pull apart. Eventually, despite her exhaustion and mounting fear about their predicament, an absurd part of her began to feel an animalistic pull towards him. 

Horrified by this, Brienne eventually gave up and pulled her sword out of its sheath to cut the rope from Jaime’s waist. The bag fell to the ground and Brienne wasted no time opening it to retrieve one of the hip flasks she had stowed with fresh water. 

Guzzling half of it down in one gulp, Brienne then collapsed onto the sand and let herself truly catch her breath. She could not remember a time when she had felt more physically drained in her life. She knew her arms would be sore for days hence from the rowing; she was not looking forward to that experience. 

As she contemplated her future discomfort, she looked around to see where Jaime had gone to. He poked about the tree line and soon enough Brienne realized he was gathering provisions for a fire. Brienne watched him do this for a short time, but then moved herself to make a firepit in the sand. The sooner they got their warmth up and running, the better. 

Jaime returned with a bundle of sticks and damp brush. Brienne knew it was far from ideal, but with the recent storm, dry brush was not really on offer. After several false starts, and much bickering, finally they were able to get the fire burning steadily. 

By that point, Brienne guessed they maybe had two or three hours left before sunrise. Knowing she would need as much strength as she could muster for the day ahead, Brienne laid down as close to the fire as she safely could and was asleep within seconds. 

~*~

When Brienne awoke, she knew almost instantly that it was well past dawn. Although the sun was not directly overhead, it was fairly high in the sky and beating down rather fiercely. Her clothes, which had been soaked through when they first landed on the beach, were now dry as the desert. 

Sitting up slowly Brienne looked around for her solitary companion, but he appeared to have wandered away from their camp. Ironically, despite the general danger of their situation, Brienne felt less worried for his safety than she had in a very long time. 

The island could not have been more than two miles in length, and Brienne would have been surprised if it was much more than a mile wide. There was clearly no one else here, and likely the largest animals to be found on the island were birds, rodents, and maybe the occasional snake. 

Famished after her arduous night, Brienne examined their food supply and ate two substantial pieces of dried beef, and a bruised apple for breakfast. It did not fully satiate her hunger, but it gave her enough energy to stand up and start taking stock of what needed doing. 

For a moment she simply gazed at the tree line and debated what method for building a shelter might be most efficient when she heard rustling that could only be Jaime’s footsteps. He soon emerged from the tree line nearby, got a look at her and said, “I am glad you are up. I found fresh water – a small pond flush from the storm. At least your stupidity will not get us killed from dehydration.” 

“My stupidity? I saved your life.” 

“We have no proof the boat capsized. And even assuming it did, we are just as likely to die here from any number of other troubles. Lack of food, exposure to the elements, infection. That last one seems particularly salient given neither of us is exactly without injury." 

Jaime looked significantly at Brienne's left shoulder. 

"At the very least," he continued, "we will need to make some kind of temporary shelter. I suggest we tear apart the lifeboat and use the planks to start building. It will be much faster than trying to chop down trees with that sword.” 

“I don’t know if that’s wise. We may decide at some point that leaving is our best chance at survival.” 

“Whether that boat capsized or not, eventually my father will find out what happened and have the King send out a search party for us. Our best bet is to ensure our own survival here until the royal navy arrives.” 

Brienne wanted to argue, but soon conceded he was correct. Jaime came from one of the most powerful and wealthy families in the Kingdom. Tywin Lannister had more than enough resources to find them, and more than enough desire to do so. Waiting it out – particularly now that they knew they had fresh water – was clearly the right move. 

They debated the best strategy for building a functional shelter. Eventually they concluded the best method would be to build a structure with three permanent sides which opened towards the beach. They would make a permanent fire pit in the sand, close to the open side of the structure. It would not be very tall, or particularly wide – just wide enough for the two of them to lie down with a bit of space between them. But it would be long enough that it could fully enclose themselves if needs be. 

Brienne spent the earlier part of the day tearing the boat apart while Jaime attempted to at least outline the structure they were trying to build. As she predicted, her arms and half healed wounds were in agony most of the time, but she was determined not to show weakness in front of her companion. She did not need to give him another reason to mock her. 

After a few sweat-inducing hours, they had the skeleton of a structure built. However, Brienne knew they needed more wood than the lifeboat had given them to complete it. They would probably need to chop down at least one fully grown tree, perhaps two. 

She made this observation to Jaime and, knowing he would be useless at such an endeavor, asked him to start pulling up as much of the long grass along the beach as he could. They would bundle it together and thatch it all around the structure to keep it insulated from the elements. 

Surprisingly, he did as she asked without argument, which left Brienne to tackle the branchiest tree she could find. Eventually she found her target and started hacking away with her sword. It was exactly as difficult as she imagined it would be and by the time she felled the tree, it was nearly dusk. Chopping it up would have to wait until the next day. 

Brienne returned to their camp to discover Jaime had actually done quite a bit in her absence. He had an enormous pile of the long grass gathered, ready to weave into insulation. He had also built a real fire pit, big, with a rock parameter. It was already being put to use, and Brienne took comfort in the healthy blaze that rose up from the sand as she plopped herself down next to her companion. 

“Ugh, you smell horrid.”

“As would you if you spent the afternoon chopping down a tree.” 

Jaime gave no verbal response but picked up the food store next to him, still cradled in the burlap sack, and set it down between them. Brienne picked up the single largest piece of dried meat and began chewing intently. She then watched Jaime take two potatoes, stick them on the tip of her sword, and hold them over the fire to bake. 

They sat in silence for a while, just watching the flames while sky began to turn dark. Eventually Jaime broke the silence. 

“I anticipate we have enough food to make it through tomorrow. Beyond that, we will have to live off the offerings of the island. There are plenty of birds about but hunting them without a bow and arrow will be challenging. Fishing is likely our best bet. I also saw a big patch of berries near the pond, but I do not recognize them and fear they may be poisonous.” 

Brienne shook her head.

“I saw them. They are gooseberries. They also grow on Tarth. I assure you, they are safe to eat.” 

“Well, at least there is that.” 

Jaime brought the sword out of the fire and set it down in the sand to lightly feel the potatoes. He did not seem happy with the result because he immediately picked the sword back up by its hilt and placed the potatoes over the fire once more. 

Brienne just gazed at the flames for a time but eventually became restless and gathered up an armful of the long grass Jaime had procured earlier that day. Bunching together two handfuls, she overlapped the two sets by a couple of inches at the ends. She then took a small batch of maybe ten or twelve strands and tied the two bigger bundles tightly together. 

Jaime watched her make another seven or eight sets before he tested the potatoes again and found them soft to the touch. Brienne took the liberty of removing them from the tip of the sword and placed them on the burlap sack to cool as she made another few sets of bundled grass. 

A few minutes later, she watched Jaime tentatively test the potato and declare, “I think they are cool enough to eat.” 

He chopped them both in half lengthwise, handed one of the four pieces to Brienne, and then took one for himself. Granted, they did not taste as good as they would have with butter, salt, or spices, but in their half-starved state, it was still immensely satisfying. 

When Jaime was almost done with the second half of his potato, he asked, “What are you making with those?” 

“A blanket,” Brienne replied. “Once I have twenty or so of the bundles, I will bind them all together and it should cover both of us. It may be a bit itchy, but it will keep us warmer than just our clothes.” 

“Why one? Why not two?” 

Brienne blinked and realized that option had not even occurred to her. 

“I... suppose I could make two instead of one. Somehow that thought did not cross my mind.” 

Jaime then made a very enigmatic expression that Brienne struggled to put a description to. It struck her as aggressive, but in a soft way, somehow. 

“No, one is better. We will stay warmer if we share our heat.” 

Although his words were benign enough, something in his tone made her stomach drop and the juncture at her legs begin to throb lightly. She'd had moments like this with him before, moments when she could have sworn they shared more than just camaraderie and a mutual purpose. 

Rationally, she knew it was nonsense. He was always going on about how unattractive she was. Still, the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice, it felt primal to her and she began to wonder what might become possible if they stayed on this island long enough.


	2. The Hut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne work on making themselves a home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured since it is a particularly stressful day, I ought to update at least one of my fics. :)

Jaime watched Brienne make bundle after bundle and felt a small bout of guilt that he could be of no help with such a task. Once she had twenty bundles made, she looped the center bands of each of the bundles together in a row, and lo, they had a serviceable substitute for a blanket. 

Just thinking about it made Jaime’s cock twitch. He tried not to remember that this wasn’t the first time, but it was hardly forgettable – the bath at Harrenhal. It could not have been more than a month ago, but it felt a lifetime away now, in both time and distance. 

Jaime could already feel how much of a difference it made, being isolated from the wider world and the people in it. Alone on this island, no idea when they might be rescued, dependent on one another for survival, it gave Jaime an animalistic, almost irrepressible desire to fuck her. 

He could not really explain it to himself except to observe that being marooned made him feel strangely free. Here, on this no-name scrap of land, he was not The Kingslayer, or Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, he was not a Lannister, a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, a son, a brother, none of it. Here he was just a man, and Brienne was just a woman, and their only obligation was to help each other survive. 

To be allowed only one obligation, so simple, so pure, so humane, it gave Jaime a sense of relief and deep inner peace. It also made his feelings toward his companion almost frighteningly intense. 

True, they had been alone together for much of their journey to King’s Landing, before their unfortunate capture. But during that time, they had always remained close to people, close to civilization, still bound by the complex politics of the society they were making their way through, if only along the fringes. Here it did not hold them captive, or loom over them. Here it might as well not exist at all. 

Jaime tried not to indulge that thought too much. In all likelihood they would have to return to that society at some point. If they left this island with more people than they had come to it with, the shame on all of them would be immense. 

Still, at his core, Jaime knew there was a limit to their control or sense of propriety, and everything about this situation seemed designed to test that limit. Starting with their sleeping arrangements. 

Brienne had laid out her makeshift blanket inside their half-built hut, and then wandered out of sight, no doubt to relieve herself before turning in. It occurred to Jaime he ought to do the same, but rather than find a tree, he simply approached the shoreline, and used the ocean. 

Soon enough he turned back around and found his companion eyeing him as she made her way to the half-built hut. Jaime returned to the fire and added several more hearty branches to it before approaching the bed they were planning to share for the foreseeable future. Again, his cock twitched at the thought as he took up the left side of the hut, alongside the woman who had chosen to sleep on the right. 

She clutched the makeshift blanket over her as she faced away from him and towards the wall of boards sticking up in the sand. She seemed determined to stay as far away from him as she could while still sharing the covers. And while it made Jaime’s heart sink ever so slightly, he knew it was for the best. In truth, he ought to be following her good example. 

For his part, Jaime lay flat on his back and gazed up at the sky. He knew the best place to view the stars was out in open ocean, leagues away from any human civilization. The little dots of light crowded the sky from horizon to horizon and for a while, Jaime lost himself in the pure awe and wonder of it. 

However, soon enough, his reverie was broken by Brienne’s very light snoring. He could tell she was exhausted, having to do the hardest of the manual labor herself because of Jaime’s missing hand. He found the sound endearing, and for a time he watched her sleep, surprised to find she was just as captivating as the heavens. 

~*~

Jaime awoke to a distinctly awkward situation. At some point in the night while he slept, he had apparently rolled over and affixed himself to Brienne, who remained sleeping on her side. Jaime’s arm was draped across Brienne’s waist and their torsos were fully aligned, right down to her rear end, which was nestling Jaime’s fully erect cock. 

This left Jaime truly torn over what to do next. 

At first, he decided to just absorb the moment, feel the weight of possibility that clung to it. However, eventually, he concluded he needed to do the honorable thing. Scooting his body back away from her, he did his best to disentangle his arm without waking her. 

His efforts appeared successful, and Jaime then decided to heed one of nature’s other calls. Much as he might have enjoyed seeing Brienne’s reaction to his arousal, it would not have been gentlemanly to intentionally put her in such a position.

As Jaime stood at the edge of the shoreline, his erection flagging in the cool sea breeze, he started to wonder how Brienne would react to such an overt proposition. He found it distinctly difficult to guess. She had some ladylike sensibilities. But she was not particularly fussed about propriety when it came to wearing pants, or fighting other men with swords, or going off on adventures as a maid without her father’s supervision. 

It was often hard for Jaime to predict what societal rules she would, and would not, feel bound by in what circumstance. But perhaps more to the point, whether or not she cared about the propriety of it was less interesting to Jaime than whether she returned his feelings. 

He felt confident she found him nice to look at. His handsomeness was renown throughout the Seven Kingdoms. But he could not tell if she felt for him any real pull or lust. That is what he was interested to find out. 

When he had finished relieving himself, Jaime turned back to their camp to see his companion still fast asleep. He decided he would give her a little more time to rest but no more than half an hour. They had a great many things to get done that day. 

Rather unimpressed by the food offerings they had left, Jaime went back to the pond to find the patch of gooseberries he’d spotted yesterday. He picked a healthy batch, holding them in the folds of his clothes, and then headed back to their camp. 

Brienne was up when he returned, picking at their food stores with about as much enthusiasm as Jaime earlier. In response, Jaime dumped his pickings into the burlap sack and then sat down next to it. 

He and Brienne ate in silence at first. The berries weren’t quite ripe, and were a bit sour, but they were still edible. Which was all that could be asked in their present state. 

Finally, Jaime felt compelled to make conversation.

“How did you sleep?” 

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.” 

They let the silence envelope them once again, filled by the ever-present crashing of the waves along the shore. Eventually Brienne gave in and said, “I think if we are lucky, we may get the structure of the hut completely built today. Although the roof is going to be a problem. I don’t know how we are going to affix the crossbeams to the walls without nails.” 

Jaime gazed at their little shack and tried to think up a solution. He thought about attempting to tie the crossbeams to their supports, but he knew that would be too unstable. If they had enough real rope, they could manage it, but the long grass would not be a viable alternative for a job like that. 

He thought about making cut-out slots in the sides of the wall boards, but again, just resting the crossbeams in the slots would not be very sturdy, particularly if there was another storm. 

Finally, it came to him. 

“I know. We will have to drill holes toward the top of the wall planks. We will cut the crossbeams down so they can fit like pegs through the holes on either side of the hut. Then we can use bundles of the grass to tie around the ends of the crossbeams, so they are blocked from falling back through the holes. Once the crossbeams are in place, we can thatch the roof with bushels of the long grass.” 

Brienne made a surprised expression. 

“I’m not just a pretty face, you know.” 

“I know. You are also a tremendous ass.” 

He sensed a bit of genuine hostility but also a bit of affection as well. It made his chest feel tight as he smiled a roguish smile at her. 

Soon after, they decided Brienne would take the sword and do her best to chop up what they still needed for the hut from the tree she felled yesterday. Jaime would look for a sharp, pointy rock to start boring holes into the planks, per his plan. 

For the next few hours they both put all their efforts into their respective tasks. Brienne started by chopping all of the branches off the tree and paring down all the ones she thought might make good crossbeams. 

A little after noon, she felt she had enough for them to make the hut roof, and she carried the fruits of her labor back to the camp. She was pleased to find Jaime had made decent progress in her absence. Six planks, three on each side of the hut, now had holes that would accommodate her crossbeams. 

Brienne dropped her payload as she said, “I’m happy you’ve made such good progress. We may well get the full frame built by sunset. The thatching, I think, will have to wait until tomorrow.” 

“I’m sure you’re looking forward to resting your arms a bit after today,” Jaime replied as he continued his efforts on the next board in the bunch, which was laying crosswise on his lap. 

“I am,” Brienne confessed as she sat down by the empty firepit. 

She pulled the food sack towards her and worked on a few more of the pieces of dried meat there, and several more gooseberries. Soon enough Jaime finished board number seven and joined her. 

After a moment of hearty chewing, he asked, nonchalantly, “How fares your...wounds?” 

Brienne gave a grim smile in response before conceding, “They are still very tender. But they do not feel inflamed, thank the Gods.”

She paused for a long moment before she asked, “How fares your arm?”

Jaime shrugged. 

“Still painful, but nowhere near as painful as it was before we arrived at Harrenhal. I think it is healing as well as could be expected, under the circumstances.”

“I’m glad,” Brienne replied softly. 

“I think tomorrow, I ought to start putting my efforts toward learning how to properly fish,” Jaime declared after another prolonged silence. “That’s the only food supply around here not in danger of being wiped out by us, and I think it will be a more viable prospect than trying to hunt the birds.” 

“I agree. We may also want to try scavenging some shellfish – mussels, clams, oysters, scallops. Maybe even some crab.” 

“Agreed. But I still think the focus should be fishing. It would be hard to scavenge enough shellfish to make up a full meal for the both of us.”

“Very well. How were you thinking of going about fishing? Making a net from the long grass?” 

“Actually, I was thinking about making a few fishing poles.”

“What will you use for a hook?” 

“Nails from the lifeboat. I know how we can bend them into hooks.” 

“Well, I’m sure you can find plenty of bait worms in the soil near the pond.” 

“Speaking of the pond, you may want to think about taking a short bath this evening. You smell even worse than you look.” 

“You do not exactly smell fresh as the morning dew either.” 

“Are you asking me to take a bath with you?” 

“I think once was enough.” 

“You disappoint me, my lady.” 

“How so?” 

Jaime had not expected her return quip and found himself fumbling for an answer that would not reveal more than he had intended to.

Finally, he shrugged and turned away as he replied, “I just thought you might long for my company.”

“I’m trapped here alone with you. I doubt I will feel bereft of your company any time soon.” 

With his gaze still averted from Brienne, Jaime stared into the small meadow of long grass on the far side of the beach. After a moment, he saw something that made his heart leap – a greyish brown jackrabbit hopping about amid the brush. 

Excitedly, he turned back to Brienne. 

“Did you see that?”

“What?”

“There are jackrabbits on the island! I just saw one hopping in the long grass.” 

Brienne smiled. Jackrabbits would be easier to hunt than birds and give them something substantial to eat, other than fish. They could even collect the pelts and make a fur lining for their blanket, depending on the length of their stay. 

Invigorated by their discovery of another attractive food source, Brienne and Jaime returned to their tasks after lunch with renewed enthusiasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come soon! And thank you to everyone who enjoyed chapter 1.


	3. Fishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne start to rely increasingly on the island to meet their needs.

About three hours past midday, Brienne returned to the shoreline with another six planks for their hut. They were a bit misshapen, but plenty serviceable. Jaime, meanwhile, had managed to make holes in all the boards they had salvaged from the boat. They were aligned in the dirt, ready for their crossbeams. 

The two worked diligently and with surprising cooperation; by the time dusk was upon them, their frame was nearly complete. They determined Brienne would need to cut two more full-sized planks from the tree tomorrow to complete the back wall. But the sides were done, the crossbeams were securely in place, and once the thatching was attached, they would have themselves a respectable shelter. 

Brienne seriously considered taking Jaime’s suggestion about the bath, but decided to wait until the next day, after the last of her hard labor was done. Waiting would also give her much more sunlight to dry herself in. 

Instead, she started their evening fire and ate the last apple from their supply bundle as Jaime cooked their last two potatoes on the end of the sword. They still had a decent smattering of dried meat, but it would get them no further than the next morning. Fishing and scavenging for shellfish would definitely be the order of the day tomorrow. 

As they waited for their potatoes to cook, Brienne found herself with the urge to make conversation. 

“How long do you suppose before we are likely to be rescued?” 

Jaime thought for a moment before he answered. 

“Well, we were due to arrive at King’s Landing in roughly a week’s time. If the ship made it, a rescue will be coordinated immediately. The earliest we would likely see it is another week. So, at minimum, we will be here another two weeks.” 

“And what do you estimate is the actual time we will have to wait?” 

“Well, they knew our approximate timeline. If the ship does not make it to port on time, they will likely give it an extra day or two before they start making inquiries. I suppose that timeline really hinges on whether the storm went anywhere near the mainland. If they deduce the storm was the culprit, a sea rescue will be underway immediately. However, if they assume we were captured, they could end up chasing down a lot of dead ends before they piece together what really happened. In that case, I would wager we are looking at two months, maybe even three.” 

That was about what Brienne had inferred as well. 

“We should probably assume it will be the longest timeline and prepare.” 

“Yes, I agree.” 

“Ah, so you believe I was right about the boat capsizing.” 

Jaime gave her a grudging look as he tested the potatoes and found them soft enough to eat. 

“I think we ought to assume you were right, for the sake of our own survival.” 

He awkwardly set the sword in the sand and removed the potatoes, laying them on the burlap sack again to cool down. 

By that point, the darkness was rapidly increasing. Brienne added more fuel to their fire before she split the potatoes in half, and they made quick work of them, along with most of the dried meat left. 

As she took her last piece for the evening, Brienne said a silent prayer that Jaime had a natural knack for fishing or hunting rabbits. Already she was feeling the effects of having to ration their food and she was not looking forward to an immediate future where they might go days with nothing to eat but berries and maybe a few clams each. 

While the two of them were skilled warriors, they were also nobles, and not well-trained in the art of hunting their dinner, particularly not birds or small game like rabbits. The only advantage they seemed to possess was that of time. Once the hut was complete, they would have nothing else to occupy themselves. 

“What do you suppose is the best way to hunt rabbits without a bow and arrow?” Brienne asked, curious if Jaime had any more insight along the lines of his earlier inspiration for how to build their hut. 

“I’ve been thinking perhaps there might be a way to build a trap, either from the rope we have left, that burlap sack, or some other contraption. I need to give it some more thought.” 

Brienne decided she would leave him to that. He seemed to have a certain knack for figuring out unlikely solutions with their limited resources; in fact, she got the distinct sense he was getting some small degree of satisfaction from it. 

Soon enough, they found themselves again preparing to share sleeping quarters. The past two nights, Brienne had been too tired to think much of it. Or anything else. However, this evening she felt more conscious of Jaime’s broad frame laying mere inches from her own. 

With the roof of their hut still unthatched, Brienne soon found herself laying on her back, staring at the sky. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jaime doing the same, and somehow it felt unbearably intimate. 

“Is this what the sky looks like on Tarth?” 

“Not quite. You see more stars on Tarth than you do on the mainland. But not like this.” 

Despite herself, Brienne felt the urge to return the question. 

“What about at Casterly Rock?” 

“Not at all. It’s quite foggy there much of the time, not to mention the woods, the light from settlements. There you usually only see the very brightest stars.” 

Brienne could not have explained what possessed her to continue their conversation, yet she found herself doing it all the same. 

“Did you like living at Casterly Rock?” 

Jaime was silent for a moment before he answered. 

“I liked some things about it. Others I was not so fond of.” 

“Such as?” 

“I liked that it housed a vast army. I enjoyed learning military drills and strategy from the Master at Arms. I liked how big it was; you could easily lose yourself there, if you wanted to. I liked exploring the vast underground catacombs. They used to hold real lions, long ago.” 

“What didn’t you like about it?”

“I didn’t like the fog. Even during summers, a good day of sunlight was a rare, special occasion. I did not like how cold and drafty it got during winters. Even the small rooms were a nightmare to heat in truly cold weather. And I did not like being so near my father. He was not exactly doting or indulgent, even when we were very young children.” 

Brienne could hear the strands of resentment in his voice. While Jaime did not appear to hate his father, their relationship was obviously strained. This did not surprise her. Tywin Lannister was legendarily formidable. Although she had never met him in person, she knew enough by reputation to imagine what kind of childhood Jaime must have had, particularly after his mother died. 

“What about you? Did you like growing up on Tarth?” 

“Yes, I did. It is one of the most beautiful corners in the Seven Kingdoms. I have not found it’s like on the mainland. And my father gave me as good a childhood as I could have hoped for. He was doting, and perhaps a little too indulgent. I am his only living child, and I think that made him more inclined to let me do as I pleased.” 

A question hovered on Jaime’s tongue for quite a long time before he found the courage to ask it. 

“If you are his only living child, how is it he did not put more effort into marrying you?” 

“He actually put quite a bit of effort into it. I just...did not acquiesce.” 

“Most women do not exactly acquiesce to their marriages.” 

“I am not most women.” 

Jaime sensed there was much more story there to tell. He also sensed he was unlikely to get much more of it out of her tonight. For the first time since they had arrived on the island, he found himself longing for wine.

~*~ 

The next morning Brienne awoke before Jaime, just after sunrise, and let him sleep while she ate a healthy serving of the gooseberries and one last piece of dried meat. Just as she was about to leave the camp to finish chopping up the tree, Jaime rose from his slumber and asked her assistance with making hooks for fishing. 

One by one, they hammered the tips of the nails into a nearby tree, and then Brienne used the long, flat blade of the sword – one hand on each end – to push up underneath the heads of the nails. It was not an easy task, but after a fair amount of huffing and exertion, she managed to make four usable hooks. 

He then followed her into the center of the island, where their freshwater pond resided. He immediately went about digging for worms, while Brienne continued her task of cutting up her felled tree. At first, Jaime concentrated mostly on his own task. However, eventually, he became distracted by Brienne’s exertions. 

Her face was red and sweating, her breath heaving, and it inadvertently put Jaime in mind of how she might look in the middle of fucking. Despite the actual violence of her exertions, it was unexpectedly erotic, and Jaime soon decided he had gathered enough worms to take his leave. 

While he was gone, Brienne finished carving out the last planks they needed to complete their hut, and then took Jaime’s advice, and bathed in the pond as best she could. At its deepest it only went halfway up her thigh, but after giving her clothes a good rinse, she let them fully soak up the water of the pond, and then placed them over her head, squeezing to let the droplets fall on her like a waterfall. She did this maybe ten times in a row before she felt fully clean, and then emerged from the pond, and hung her clothes on a nearby tree branch to let them dry somewhat. 

Her plan had worked out well, Brienne reflected, as she strolled around the edge of the pond, eating a few more gooseberries. It was almost midday, and the sun beat down directly on her as she and her clothing dried. She was surprised by how much the bath renewed her. Her spirits felt distinctly higher, and while she would not have described herself as happy in that moment, she felt a strange kind of contentment and inner peace. 

With her clothes still damp but wearable, Brienne put them back on and decided to see how Jaime faired in his fishing. She returned to the shoreline, her final planks in hand, and found him thigh-deep in the ocean, a makeshift fishing pole balanced in the crook of his right arm and steadied by his left hand. It was made of a hearty tree branch, and had a line fashioned from a smaller strand of the rope Brienne had used to tie their provisions to Jaime in the lifeboat. 

Brienne dropped her planks by the hut and then went to the shoreline to get a better sense of the situation. She found their burlap sack sitting near the damp sand, already bearing a crab and a small fish. Brienne was pleased, impressed, and felt moved to tell Jaime so. 

Rolling up her pant legs so they hovered above her knees, Brienne waded into the water. Jaime turned to look at her as soon as he heard her footsteps. They half shouted at one another over the crashing waves.

“I see you already caught a fish and a crab.” 

“Yes. Well, the fish I caught, the crab I actually just managed to step on.” 

“Lucky accident.” 

“Do you know anything about how to cook either of them?” 

“I have a vague idea, but I cannot make any promises regarding taste.” 

“As long as it does not make me ill, I’ll consider it a success.” 

“Should I attempt to prepare them now, or do you want to wait and see if you can reel in anything else?” 

“Let’s wait. I think I can get at least one more fish in the next hour or so. Why don’t you finish building out the frame of the hut and start a new fire? Hopefully by then I’ll have more to cook.” 

“Very well.” 

Brienne turned around and did as Jaime asked. She placed the last few planks in the sand, completing the back wall of their hut. It was not beautiful, but it looked sturdy, and given their severe limitations regarding raw materials and tools, Brienne felt quite a bit of pride at their accomplishment. 

Tomorrow she would get to the thatching in earnest, but she decided the rest of the day would go toward hunting and cooking what they managed to hunt. She had not felt properly fed in days, and if they could get enough to really satiate the hunger, she knew it would be worth one more night of exposure to the elements. 

She gathered up enough dry grass and wood for a healthy fire, and then pulled out the shield she had stowed in the lifeboat, along with their other supplies. They had not had any use for it up until then, but it was the only substantial piece of metal they had, and it would be their main pot and pan for cooking. 

Fortunately, it was curved enough that they would be able to boil shellfish in it. The main problem was finding a way to mount it above the fire. As Brienne started to contemplate that hurdle in earnest, she heard a commotion by the water. 

Jaime had something on his line and was struggling to keep hold of it. Terrified it might get free, Brienne ran over and grabbed the stick with both hands from behind Jaime. At first, they just pulled with their considerable, combined strength. The fish put up quite a fight but was ultimately no match for them. As the pulling on the line lessened, Brienne let go and got out of the way as Jaime backed up and eventually brought to shore a mackerel the length of his forearm. 

Brienne held the slithering creature with both hands, while Jaime removed the hook from its mouth. Brienne then brought it over to their campsite where she laid it down in the sand and swiftly chopped off its head with the sword. She did not like watching animals suffer, even a lowly fish. 

As she picked the big fish back up and poured some fresh water over it to rid it of sand, Jaime grabbed their other catch of the day and sauntered up the beach to join her. He looked pleased. 

“Impressive catch.” 

“Did you just give me a complement? I believe perhaps I ought to be preparing for the end of days.” 

“Why don’t you prepare for something more useful? We will need to cook these using the shield over the fire. But I don’t know how we are going to mount it. We can’t build a rack over the fire with wood, it will burn up.” 

Jaime gazed at the shield for a long moment and Brienne could almost see his problem-solving at work. 

“I know what to do. We tie two separate ropes to the two inner straps and then suspend it over the fire by tying the other ends to branches on the far sides of the fire.” 

Immediately, Brienne went about building what Jaime described, and just as dusk began to fall, they were ready to start cooking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I've updated! (December is the busiest month in my industry) But I've been working on this a lot recently and I have a few more chapters already in the queue ready to go. So expect another update very soon. And I promise, they will get sexier...


	4. The Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they adapt more to their life on the island, subdued feelings rise to the surface.

They started with the fish, searing them directly on the metal shield. The smaller one got a bit burnt but they were not exactly in a position to be picky. After the fish were ready, they filled the shallow curvature of the shield with fresh water and boiled the crab. It was just deep enough to submerge it. 

As the sun really started to go down, Jaime and Brienne sat side by side near the fire and picked their daily catch clean to the bone. They ate in near silence, not quite forgetting all of their manners but letting loose enough to have earned scoldings from their childhood nurses. Neither seemed fussed about it. They were too hungry. 

The crab was by far the best tasting of the bunch. It was actually flavorful on its own, though Jaime still fancied it could have done with a bit of butter. The fish was perfectly edible, but also quite bland. Fish was much better when cooked in oil and spiced. While they were fresh out of spices, Jaime fancied maybe if they caught a jackrabbit, they might be able to keep the trimmings for their next fish. 

Soon enough, they had picked their catch clean. It was not quite enough food to make Brienne feel full, but it was as well-fed as she had been since arriving on the island, and already the difference it made was palpable. She felt renewed, if not brimming with energy, at least with more than enough to spare. 

“Did you get your fill, my Lady?” 

She could tell Jaime was being facetious, but she responded in earnest all the same. 

“Very nearly. Thank you again for this. Eating a proper meal has done me quite good.” 

“So, what’s on the docket for tomorrow? Thatching the hut?” 

Brienne nodded. 

“Another day of fishing for you? Or will you try your luck with the jackrabbits?” 

Jaime stared into the fire. 

“I think perhaps I will start the day with fishing and see how it goes. If I manage get a few good catches early on, I will switch to rabbit hunting. I am sorry I cannot be much help with thatching the hut.” 

“It’s not your fault. And honestly, I am looking forward to a task that will keep me sitting most of the day.” 

“Well, depending on how fast you are at bundling the grass, tomorrow may be your last day of strenuous work for a while. We will still have to hunt most days, of course. But other than that, once the hut is done, we really ought to conserve our energy, do as little work as possible.” 

“Yes, agreed. We may have to get used to taking regular naps in the sun.” 

“Perhaps, but with that, we have to be cautious. If we sleep too much during the day, we will be up all night with nothing to do.” 

Despite his relatively innocent tone, Brienne met Jaime’s gaze and felt the wind go out of her as she saw the unmistakable in his eyes. He thought it, the same as she did. 

Brienne instantly broke their eye contact and stared intently at the fire instead. She wanted to break the silence, find something benign to talk about, but her mind was blank, save for the thought of the two of them fucking like animals in the sand while the waves crashed rhythmically along the shore. 

It was enough to make her short of breath as a strong, sexual throbbing pulsed between her legs. 

After a painfully long moment, Jaime proclaimed, rather hoarsely, “If you are doing it right, that burns up a lot of energy as well.” 

At this, Brienne felt her face become a flaming pink and she continued to stare into the fire as Jaime rose and walked off into the tree line. 

For a brief moment, Brienne had to assure herself she had not imagined the whole interaction. It seemed so far-fetched and yet everything in her body told her it was real. Jaime really had said all those words to her – those words that implied so many terrifying, delightful things. 

Furthermore, he had not turned it into a joke. Once or twice, in the early days of their travels, Jaime had made similar suggestions. But they had clearly been barbs intended to get a rise out of her. They had been mocking, mean-spirited, lacking in any real heat. 

What had just happened a moment ago was a far cry from those early insults. What had happened a moment ago was...real. And it made Brienne feel the strangest mix of excitement and fear. 

She did not fear that he would try to force himself on her. For one thing, she was stronger than him and he knew it. For another, he had lost his hand stopping other men from doing the same to her. Whatever else Jaime Lannister was, he was not a rapist. 

What she feared was he would solicit her, and she would not have the strength to say no. Just the thought of him kissing her was enough to make her whole body flush with lust. If he reached over and touched her in the night, she very well might not have the will to refuse him. 

For the first time since they took refuge on this spit of land, Brienne felt genuinely concerned for their futures. Not from the prospect of death. Very much the opposite. 

~*~

That night was the first one that felt overtly awkward. After their strange, unexpected moment, they both steered clear of anything untoward. Instead they were unfailingly polite and kept what distance they could from one another as the sun descended over the horizon. 

However, once night was truly upon them, and they took refuge in their hut, a new, heavy energy flowed between them. Every small sigh, turn, shift, and roll seemed deafening in the tiny structure, particularly when neither could stop thinking about what it might feel like to reach out and touch the person next to them. 

Brienne tried to divert her attention by thinking about Renly, but his face had lost much of its clarity in her mind. It was dull and faded, difficult to hold onto, even harder to use as a shield against her burgeoning lust for the man next to her. 

Brienne attempted to get her feelings under control by reminding herself of his many faults. He had broken a sacred vow, even if he’d had valid cause. He openly confessed to committing repeated incest with his sister. He was brash, cocky, rude, and at times very annoying. He was still looking far from his pristine self – underweight, scarred, hair shorn in a not particularly flattering way. 

Yet none of it did anything to lessen her urge to run her hands across his chest, down his back, over his rear end, along his...

Brienne’s abdomen throbbed, and she felt the wetness between her legs grow at the thought of all the ways she might touch him. It was simultaneously delightful and horrifying to her. 

Jaime was not faring any better. Indeed, in some ways, he fared worse, for his body was responding to her nearness, heat, and newly bathed sent with an aggressive erection that he could not get under control. 

Everything in him begged to reach out and test what might be possible under the cover of the darkness. However, Jaime retained just enough sanity to keep himself from attempting it. Every possible response scared him. He hated the idea that she might reject him, and he was terrified of what might happen if she did not. 

Moreover, he got the distinct sense the latter possibility was the more probable of the two, and that prospect was rife with distressing possibilities. Jaime was sure if she did touch him, he would either come so quickly, she would not even have time to get her pants off, or his expulsion inside her would be so intense it would practically guarantee a pregnancy. Furthermore, it would dishonor them both, even if they managed to keep it a secret. 

Jaime eventually resolved not to do as his body pleaded. However, his erection refused to quiet and eventually he rose and left the hut to take refuge in the trees along the edge of the beach. When he got there, he leaned against a sturdy trunk, pulled at his trouser laces roughly, and finally gave his arousal the attention it was begging for. 

Jaime summoned the thought of the two of them naked in the sand, Brienne on top of him, riding his hips with all her considerable strength. That was more than enough to get him over the edge, and Jaime felt as if every last bit of strength in him was being pulled down through him. 

Although he managed to stay upright, his knees weakened from the sheer violent pleasure and he had to grab onto the tree for support. Eventually, enough blood rushed back to his extremities, and he was able to put himself to rights and return to the hut. 

Although she was lying still, and her eyes were closed, Jaime could tell Brienne was not asleep. She seemed as restless as him and likely for the same reason. He had seen all too clearly the look in her eyes when he decided to voice what he should have kept silent. He did not think he would be able to forget it. 

So much fear mixed in with so much curiosity and longing. She was not particularly adept at hiding her emotions even under benign circumstances. Catch her off guard, and her reactions were unfailingly honest. He could not get that look she had given him out of his head. It was what was making his trousers so uncomfortable. 

As Jaime felt the lust surge back to life, he tried to turn his thoughts to the only woman he had ever made love to. Perhaps if he focused on Cersei, he could overcome his desire to touch the woman next to him. However, he found the thought of her actually quieted his sexual appetite altogether. 

As he pictured her face, the throbbing in his groin waned, and his body cooled. He felt many things thinking of her – worry for her safety, hope that he would see her again in this lifetime, the desire to reassure her that he was alive and reasonably well. But somehow, his desire to return to her did not spark his passion. If anything, it smothered it. 

Strange. Jaime had, of course, desired women other than Cersei in his life. He was loyal, not blind. But his feelings for them had never done anything to make Cersei less appealing. As Jaime contemplated this confusing turn of events, he turned his attention deliberately to the sound of the waves crashing along the beach. 

Eventually he decided it must be a reaction to his very unusual circumstances – trapped on this island, with only Brienne for company, no idea when they might be rescued. It was natural Jaime’s attentions and emotions would be temporarily diverted. At the moment, Brienne was, effectively, the only other person in his life. It made sense that she held an inflated importance to him in the here and now. 

Once they returned to civilization, Jaime would be able to put his relationship with Brienne, and Brienne herself, back into perspective. She was an ugly, ungainly woman from a house of no particular importance. Just because they were temporarily marooned together by fate did not mean Jaime ought to accord her any more consequence than she actually deserved. 

This was the lie Jaime fell asleep telling himself. 

~*~  
Brienne awoke early the next day having slept badly. However, she wasted little time before rising and starting her morning routine. 

First, she found a spot just out of eyeline of the beach to relieve herself. Then she hunted down some of the gooseberries and made quick work of them. Her hunger was back, and she found herself hoping Jaime might try his luck at rabbit hunting today. Both because rabbit sounded quite good, and because it would keep him occupied elsewhere for at least a few hours. 

As that thought crossed her mind, she found herself meditating on what he had said yesterday about filling their days. Today she still had a substantial task ahead of her. She was going to try to thatch the full exterior of their structure. 

But what about tomorrow? And the day after that? And the day after that? There was only so much hunting and fishing they could do in a day. None of their catches would keep for any length of time. And they would no doubt get better at it the longer they remained there. 

A week from now, it might take them no more than an hour or two to make a full day’s catch. What on earth were they to do with themselves for the other ten hours while the sun was up? 

It had never before occurred to Brienne that lack of something to occupy oneself could be a legitimate problem. Yet as she made her way back to their camp to restart their fire, she realized it was about to become one of their biggest problems. 

~*~

Jaime was still abed when she arrived, and she made quick work of relighting the fire. She then grabbed a large bundle of the long grass Jaime had gathered for her and started making bundles to thatch the hut. 

After she had made about a dozen, she heard Jaime stir. She watched him sit up, rub his eyes, and then saunter unevenly down to the ocean to ruin the morning for a few unfortunate sea creatures. She was not sure how she felt about him doing this in plain view. It seemed so...familiar. 

In truth, she had watched him take plenty of pisses along the road to King’s Landing. But at the time it had felt perfunctory, not intimate. However, Brienne also knew she could not say anything to him about it. It would only make her look prudish and overly sensitive. 

Keeping her eyes firmly on her work, she saw him make his way into the woods out of the corner of her eye, no doubt to pick and eat his breakfast. With Jaime out of sight and mind, Brienne lost herself enough in the rhythm of her work that time got away from her. It was only when a bird dove swiftly into the water for a fish nearby that Brienne realized she had not seen Jaime in quite some time. 

Just as she deduced his probable whereabouts, he emerged from the tree line and the look of him confirmed it – clean skin, damp hair, clothes sticking to him. Save for his lost hand, he looked like a near perfect specimen of manhood. It made Brienne something akin to angry. 

Deciding she had more than enough thatching ready for the moment, she rose and began affixing it their hut, starting with the roof. She worked diligently, not ignoring Jaime, exactly, but paying him no particular attention. 

She could hear him near her, fumbling about with their meager supplies and makeshift tools. Normally the noise would not have bothered her a whit, but given how attuned she was to him, it was distracting beyond belief. 

She was, in fact, on the verge of telling him off when he voiced an unexpected request. 

“When you are done with that, would you mind helping me? The hook came loose from the line and I cannot seem to get it properly reattached.” 

Brienne nodded and continued tying the bundle of thatch she held to their roof beams. When she finished, she walked over to Jaime and avoided eye contact as she took the nail and rope thread from him and reattached the one to the other. 

“Thank you,” Jaime said in a low murmur as she handed the line back to him. 

Despite her attempt to avoid it, Brienne’s hand brushed Jaime’s and she felt it like a bolt of lightning shooting through her. The breath left her body and she could tell her cheeks were flushed. It horrified her, the power he held to make her feel such sinful things. 

Jaime pretended not to notice Brienne’s reaction as he turned around calmly to take his place in the shallow waves. In truth, he had noticed, and it was all he could do to stop himself from getting another erection. 

Wanting her was bad enough. Knowing she wanted him in return was trying his self-control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect another update quite soon! And thank you for the lovely feedback, you all are the best. :)


	5. Campfire Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne share a bit more about their past.

Jaime did his best to focus on the task ahead of him. Eventually he was able to find his rhythm and leave Brienne at the back of his mind. After a few hours, he had a respectable collection of four, freshly caught fish waiting to be seared. None were bigger than his hand. But two each would make them a very respectable lunch. 

Ready to start preparing his catch, Jaime finally set his eyes back on the camp behind him as he made his way toward the firepit. Brienne had done a great deal of work since he had left her to procure their meal. The entire roof was fully thatched, as was the southern side of the hut, where the wind typically blew hardest. She was on pace to finish by sundown. 

Jaime was pleased that his sleeping situation was about to get significantly more comfortable. He was also worried that without the distractions of the cold wind, the bright stars, and the crashing waves, he would feel even more of his attention drawn to the woman lying next to him. 

Overriding his impulse to give a polite preamble, Jaime addressed Brienne with another request. 

“I need you to set up the shield over the fire again.” 

Brienne glanced at his catch from over her shoulder as she gave the knot she was tying an extra strong tug. 

“Very well” she said, as she turned back to her task almost instantly. “Just give me a moment.” 

Jaime did as she requested and sat down by the fire to start cleaning off the fish. After a moment, Brienne came over and set up their makeshift stove top. Jaime put all four fish in at once, side by side, letting them sizzle for a short time before flipping them over with a stick. 

He did this twice and then asked for Brienne’s help judging if they were finished. She affirmed they were ready to eat, and then she used the sword to retrieve them, fearing Jaime’s left hand would be too unsteady. 

The two sat side by side near the fire as they waited for their lunch to cool. Brienne avoided Jaime’s eye line, gazing into the fire with unwavering intensity, as if she were waiting for it to tell her a secret. 

With Brienne lost in her reverie, Jaime decided to simply go ahead and start. He picked at his first fish and found it surprisingly to his liking. It was still fairly bland, but the meat was cooked just right, and it made for a satisfying meal. 

After his first few bites, Brienne followed suit, picking at her first fish as she continued to avoid his gaze. Watching her deliberately ignore him made Jaime feel irrationally angry. Despite her good intentions, he found himself dredging up a conversation he knew would engage her, for better or worse.

“So, why is it your father never managed to marry you?” 

Brienne was so surprised by Jaime’s question, a bit of fish found itself lodged in her windpipe and she had to cough quite emphatically to set herself to rights. 

When she could breathe normally again, she gazed at him with suspicion as she asked, “Why do you care to know?” 

“I don’t especially,” Jaime lied. “However, in case you had not noticed, we are all we have here. We may as well find a better way to pass the time than uncomfortable silences.” 

Brienne’s skepticism was written all over her face and Jaime could tell she was on the verge of falling back into her truculent silence. However, to his amazement, she decided to answer his question. 

“I fought off all the men he tried to marry me to.” 

Jaime felt himself smile at this. He did not bother to hide his amusement as she told the story of the three men offered her hand and defeated by her in combat. He could see it in his mind’s eye so vividly – Brienne in her late teens, challenging more than one piteous lord who wanted only her dowry to a duel and defeating them all. It deserved an epic poem or song. He would have given a great deal to witness it himself.

Fully aware he was playing with fire, Jaime asked the question that his mind refused to surrender. 

“What if I had been one of your suitors?” 

“Don’t talk nonsense. My father is not rich enough or powerful enough for your father to have even entertained the idea. And in case you have forgotten, you were already a Kingsguard by the time I came of age.” 

“I understand why it is implausible in reality. I ask merely as a hypothetical. Had we been...betrothed, would you have tried to fight me off?”

“Probably,” she replied, although Jaime sensed her answer was strained. She was visibly uncomfortable. 

“Do you think you would have defeated me?”

Brienne gave the matter far more thought than Jaime was expecting, and he was just about to give up and change the subject when she shocked him with her response.

“I do not know that I would have tried very hard.” 

This answer made Jaime feel almost dizzy and he had to forcibly stop himself from gaping at her. His mind scrambled to find something to say that would not endanger their precarious détente. But before he managed to find it, Brienne turned the tables on him. 

“So why is it your father never managed to marry you?” 

“You know why – I am a Kingsguard.” 

“Yes, and that is what I am asking. Why did you become one? It’s not as if you had any love for the Mad King even before he went utterly mad. Why give up your title, your inheritance, your place in the family line?” 

“I...” 

Even more than before, Jaime struggled to provide a response. Though Brienne knew about Cersei, Jaime felt embarrassed admitting how much he gave up for her. In truth, it was something he often regretted and in the deepest part of himself, he knew Cersei had manipulated him into it. It made him feel stupid and weak to think about what he had thrown away for a romance that would never be legitimized. 

“It was her idea, wasn’t it?” Brienne asked. 

Jaime could tell she phrased it as a question to be diplomatic. 

“Yes,” he replied, gruffly. 

“Well, at the height of your fighting prowess, I may not have been able to defeat you in a battle of swords. But I have no doubt I’d have been able to defeat you in a battle of wits.” 

It was all Jaime could do to gawk at her as she rose, dusted herself off and picked up the next bundle. Somehow, a conversation that included her admission that she would not have tried to fight a betrothal to him still left him feeling like the wronged party. 

For a time, he simply stared at her going about her work, contemplating whether he ought to feel flattered or insulted. He never managed to make up his mind, which did nothing to help him figure out what to do next. 

He had awoken that morning with every intent to work on his rabbit snare. However, he was too distracted by his midday conversation with Brienne to give it any real brainpower and he settled for scavenging for shellfish. 

Bringing the burlap sack with him, Jaime walked up and down the shoreline looking for closed shells which he knew would contain edible meat. He recognized cockles and muscles on sight and gathered a good haul of each. He then stumbled upon a collection of oysters, which he had always liked. They were plentiful on the shores by Casterly Rock and he had grown up eating them. 

He gathered six and left the rest for another day. He was trying to be conscientious about not eating too much of any one thing, for fear they might eliminate it from the island all together. After a while, he also came across a good-sized crab, but did not manage to snag it before it scuttled away from him into the depths of the cloudy water. 

He felt a moment of frustration before remembering they had more than enough to eat today, and there was always tomorrow. With a healthy haul in his sack, Jaime returned to their campsite, which was a farther walk than he was expecting. He had so lost himself in the task of scavenging, he had not noticed how far he had wandered. 

When he arrived, the sun loomed fairly low on the western horizon. He guessed they maybe had another hour of daylight, certainly no more than two. Brienne was building up the fire once again using the last of the long grass which had not managed to make its way onto their hut. 

Jaime stopped for a moment to take in Brienne’s work. It was a bit haphazard in places, but it looked sturdy and thorough. They would sleep much better insulated from the elements. Well, they would be more comfortable, at any rate. 

Jaime dropped his payload next to the fire and Brienne did not bother to greet him before she started rummaging through it. She nodded approvingly at the muscles and cockles, but he saw her actually smile when she discovered his stash of oysters. 

“There are lots more of those around. But I thought we ought to pace ourselves for the sake of the wildlife balance.” 

“I love them, but we will need to figure out how to shuck them without a small knife. The sword is way too big.” 

“Well, why don’t you set the rest of them to boil, and I will see what else we might be able to use to prepare the oysters.” 

Brienne put their makeshift pan back over the fire, and then filled it up with fresh water to boil their dinner. When the muscles and cockles were steaming away, she returned to Jaime’s side to assess his progress. He had managed to use one of the old lifeboat nails to pry up the flat side of the oyster at the hinge. However, she caught him struggling to detach the flesh from the underside of the shell. 

“Give it to me,” Brienne said with firmness and kindness. 

Jaime gave a theatrical sigh and then handed over his project. Brienne struggled briefly as well, but with two hands, she managed to get the top detached, and then scoop the flesh completely off the curved part of the shell. One down, five to go. 

She laid their line of oysters delicately in the sand, ready to eat once the rest of the meal was cooked. When all six were prepared, they retrieved the shield pan from over the fire, delicately drained the water and retrieved the muscles and cockles. Brienne found two or three which had not opened upon being cooked and she knew well enough to throw them back. 

“Those will make you sick,” she told Jaime. 

“I am surprised you did not leave me to find that out the hard way.”

“I am not about to tempt fate. With everything we have managed to survive, the last thing I want is for it to end with you dying of the shits because I thought it might be amusing to cause you a bit of discomfort.” 

“I guess you will have to find another way to cause me discomfort.” 

“I am sure I can think of something.” 

They smiled at one another, a strange comradery descending upon them as they made their way through their bite-sized scraps of seafood. They both left the oysters for last, downing the first one in unison. 

Jaime savored the familiar taste and observed out loud, “I am not nearly the wine drinker my brother and sister are, but I have to admit, it feels a bit misplaced to eat oysters without wine.” 

“I know what you mean. I never liked oysters as a child. I only developed a taste for them when I entered adolescence. I can’t remember the last time I ate oysters without wine.”

“On the other hand—” 

“What other hand?” Brienne quipped.

Jaime gave her a sarcastic look and replied, “Very droll. On the other hand, I can scarcely think of anything that would be of less use on this island to us than alcohol.” 

“I don’t know, it could help us whittle away the time. Drunk people seem to find most things far more amusing than sober people.” 

“True, but a corollary to that is drunk people often have a harder time distinguishing a good idea from a terrible one.” 

Intuiting his meaning almost instantly, Brienne avoided his gaze as she conceded, “A fair point.”


	6. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime gets a little too honest with Brienne

Both enjoyed their second oyster in silence, each reaching for something safe to talk about. However, all Jaime could think about was the old wives’ tale about oysters provoking sexual arousal. He suspected it was nonsense, just an old superstition. Yet he found himself fighting the temptation to ask Brienne what she made of the notion all the same. 

Dangerous as he knew it was, Jaime could not help but revel in the thought of the face she would make – like a small animal caught out by a much larger one. Frozen, unable to attack or retreat. 

Since he had known her, Brienne had seemed to Jaime like a stone pillar of stoic strength. Just as hard, and nearly as cold. Much as he knew he should not tempt anything with her, he found this particular vulnerability of hers fascinating. 

However, before he could decide whether or not to ask her, she interrupted his reverie. 

“What?” 

Jaime was genuinely confused by the question. 

He shook his head as he returned the question: “What?” 

“You had a strange look on your face. What were you thinking about just now?”

Jaime met her gaze and decided to be responsible. 

“I should not say.”

“Why not?”

“It would be...untoward.” 

Brienne could not hide the flash of a smile that moved across her face before she turned her head as far as she could away from him, to look at the tree line. The expression was almost girlish, and Jaime marveled that she was capable of it. 

Seeing her that way made his stomach twist with delight. It was then Jaime had one of the strangest revelations of his life. This was the first time he ever properly flirted with a woman. 

To his mind, Cersei did not count. By design, flirting was intended to increase intimacy between people not fully familiar with one another. He had never been enough of a stranger to Cersei to flirt with her. 

He had also entered the Kingsguard just as he was leaving boyhood, which left him with only the most perfunctory, polite flirtations mandated by social propriety. In his whole life, had never actually flirted with a woman in earnest for the sheer pleasure of it...until today. 

That was strange enough on its own, but the fact that it was Brienne, of all people, who gave him that first was even stranger. 

This new awareness urged Jaime to find out how far ahead of him Brienne might be in this regard. Not very, he had to imagine. Then again he knew (better than most) that people’s sexual lives were not exactly apprehensible at a glance. 

“Tell me more about your relationship with Renly Baratheon.” 

The shift in subject caused her to temporarily gape at him. 

Finally, she replied, “What is it you want to know?”

“Whatever there is to know. What exactly did he do to earn your love? Why were you so devoted to him?”

Brienne looked into the flames of their still roaring fire, and he could almost see her being transported back through her own memories. 

“He never dismissed me simply because I am a woman. He let me prove myself on my own merits.” 

Jaime waited for further explanation, but Brienne seemed lost in thought. 

“Is that all?”

“No. He once...spared me from horrible ridicule. He danced with me at my coming out, when all the other noblemen were busy making a joke out of me. He saw my pain and tried to lessen it. He had a good soul.” 

“Yes, he always struck me as rather tender-hearted. And I don’t mean that as a criticism.”

Brienne just nodded and now seemed a tad forlorn. Attempting to return to their previous state of flirtatious banter, Jaime asked, with intentional bluntness, “Did the two of you ever do more than dance?” 

Brienne scoffed and gave him a withering look. 

“Of course not! Don’t talk nonsense.” 

“It’s not as absurd as it sounds. I know women were not Renly’s first choice for sexual company, but sometimes people get very drunk, or they just get curious, and are willing to go against their first instincts. The two of you never kissed? Or groped a little in the dark?” 

Brienne’s cheeks went bright red as she replied, curtly, “No.” 

“What about with anyone else?” Jaime paused briefly for effect before adding, “Man or woman?” 

“Why on earth are you asking me this?” 

Jaime shrugged, trying to seem less invested than he was. “Because it is interesting.”

“It’s not interesting if I have nothing to tell. Which I think you know I do not.” 

“In fact, I don’t know that, which is precisely what makes it interesting. If you had something to tell, that would be interesting. And the fact that you don’t also is interesting.” 

“How so?” 

“Even ugly women can get sexual attention, if they actually want it, particularly a noble woman like you. Your total purity is a choice, and one that seems motivated by sentimentality. You don’t just want a stolen kiss and a quick feel in the dark from some inconsequential drunk lord. You want it to _mean_ something.” Jaime paused briefly before concluding, “You are a romantic.” 

“And what are you?” Brienne shot back aggressively.

“Trapped,” Jaime replied, without the slightest hesitation. 

For a long moment they simply stared at one another while the fire crackled in the background. Jaime had not intended to get that honest with her, but once he said it, he did not try to take it back. It was the truth and admitting it felt good, in a certain way. 

Finally, Brienne took a deep breath and asked the question as she stared aggressively into the fire. 

“And what if you weren’t?” 

“I think I would be less afraid of our current situation.” 

Brienne’s head swiveled to look at him. A myriad of emotions swam in her crystal blue eyes, and she seemed to be struggling to contain them. Finally, without saying a word, she rose, and walked off along the beach just as the last rays of sun peeked over the horizon. 

Jaime desperately wanted to follow her, but he respected her obvious desire to be away from him. He truly had not meant to be so honest with her, but it took more strength than he had to stop himself, which did not bode well for them. 

If he could not stop himself saying such things to her, would he be able to stop if they kissed, if they intimately touched, if they found themselves entangled in their sleep? Jaime had never in his life experienced lust that strong before. But the fire that raged in his belly at the mere thought of any of those things was enough to make him wonder. Truly, truly wonder. 

~*~

Brienne stalked down the length of the beach, a mix of anger, frustration, and aching despair clawing at her insides as the tears spilled freely down her face. She was not imagining it – he felt something for her beyond duty, debt, camaraderie, friendship. Against everything rational, normal, or sane, he felt an attraction to her. 

And there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. 

Brienne had always thought it was the peak of cosmic cruelty to be burdened with the looks the Gods had given her. But it was not. This was the peak of cosmic cruelty. To look as she did, and still find herself the object of desire of a man like Jaime Lannister, only to remain bereft of any opportunity to consummate it. 

He was a Kingsguard. Marriage was impossible. And she could not let him take her maidenhead without at least the prospect of a marriage on the table. 

Even if she managed to avoid getting pregnant, it would dishonor them both to give into their urges in such a base manner. 

_But who is to know?_

Brienne did not hear that voice very often, the voice that asked why she could not do the less honorable thing. This was the first time in a very long time that she found herself contending with that voice. 

**I will know. And it is a sin.**

_Those rules exist to ensure proper bloodlines, transfer of titles, inheritance. Were you to enter a marriage later on, you would know the paternity of any child you had within it. Men can’t know if a child is truly theirs, but you can._

**And what if I get pregnant by Jaime?**

_Just because you get pregnant does not mean the child must come into the world._

While Brienne did not know specifically how one ended a pregnancy before it began to show, she knew it was more than possible. Abortions, while technically illegal, were not uncommon among noble women and peasants alike, not to mention whores. 

**But could I really bring myself to kill my child by Jaime?**

Brienne knew the answer to that question immediately. No. 

_Well enough, but a pregnancy is by no means guaranteed. Some couples struggle to get with child after years of trying. Most of the time, sex does not end in a child._

That was the thought that Brienne found herself chewing on as the sky blackened, and the stars began to glisten. If they were careful, if they were restrained, if they only risked it infrequently, maybe she could have a little taste of heaven before she and Jaime were once again torn apart by duty and honor and propriety. 

This thought circled her mind on an endless loop, coming around and around as the waves along the shoreline. The problem with it was, it was too tempting to give up on, and too dangerous to simply give into. It held her in the worst kind of ambivalence, and she stewed in it for hours before she gave up and returned to the bed they shared in the sand. 

Jaime was lying down, his eyes closed, but she suspected it was an act. His breathing was not quite deep enough for real sleep. 

Brienne took up her place next to him as unobtrusively as possible, but even being careful, the smallest of sounds seemed cacophonous in the tiny hunt. Lying on her back, Brienne tried to think of emotionally inconsequential matters, but it was a lost cause. Her mind just plodded endless circles around the question of what she could live with doing...and not doing. 

~*~

Eventually they both found sleep and when they rose the next morning, they were politely distant with one another.

Brienne retrieved their breakfast of berries, and they ate in silence, avoiding eye contact as they watched the waves crash along the shore. Eventually, she broke their silence. 

“I was thinking, today, perhaps I could take a turn fishing or scavenging for shellfish, while you work on a strategy for hunting jack rabbits.” 

Jaime nodded, recognizing that the plan was designed to keep the two of them out of each other’s orbits, as much as it was intended to give them a new food source. 

“I think I may spend most of the day scavenging. I’ve not really had a chance to explore the whole island, and this seems like the right opportunity.” 

“Well enough,” Jaime said, avoiding direct eye contact. 

They finished up their small breakfast in silence and then Brienne headed off down the beach slowly, gathering up the odd cockle, clam, or muscle as she went. She made a point to move slowly, both so she did not miss anything but also because she needed to stay away from Jaime as much as she reasonably could.

Even looking him directly in the eye seemed a heavy risk at the moment. 

Once she had scavenged enough for their lunch, Brienne simply strolled along the beach taking in the island’s small variations along the shoreline. At what she guessed was about the halfway point to the full circuit, Brienne noticed something odd. A strange pile of rocks near a break in the long grass that almost seemed unnatural, human-made. 

She gazed at it, wondering whether it could just be an unlikely natural fluke, when she noticed the break in the grass almost seemed to form a small path. Brienne followed it and found two more rocks set directly across from each other, almost like guideposts. 

Her excitement growing, along with the smallest sense of trepidation, Brienne followed the barely discernible path through the trees to a mound of stones ranging from the size of her fist to the size of her head sitting against a much larger rock. 

Brienne pushed the stones aside one by one and eventually uncovered the payload – a large wooden crate with a removable top piece. Brienne was almost certain it was the work of smugglers, and when she uncovered the top to see what lay within, she become wholly certain. 

Inside were bottles of wine, no doubt stored there for safe keeping to turn a profit on later. 

Brienne guessed there were maybe thirty bottles in the crate. She retrieved two and covered the box back up before she made her way through the trees, taking the short way back to the camp. 

Her discovery was good news for more reasons than one. The wine would make a nice diversion while they were trapped there, but it also dramatically increased their odds of a timely rescue. Smugglers were known to use small, uninhabited islands like this for storage of their stolen goods. That the bottles were there, still waiting to be sold, meant someone was likely to come back for them soon. 

Furthermore, smugglers were usually looking to make a profit any way they could. Jaime Lannister was better cargo than any amount of wine a ship could carry.


	7. The Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions rise to the surface with a little help from the wine

Brienne took long, purposeful strides and emerged on the other side of the island soon enough. Back on the beach, she made her way to camp and placed the two bottles inside their hut, along with her shellfish collection, before she set off to find Jaime. 

She came upon him in a small clearing amid the long grass. He appeared hard at work fashioning some kind of contraption out of a modest length of their rope and the burlap sack. He looked up expectantly the moment she arrived. 

“Good news. This island is apparently a safe haven for smugglers. I found a stash of wine they left.” 

“I hope you brought a bottle back.” 

“In fact, I brought two. I also have enough shellfish to make us a respectable lunch. But more to the point, we are likely to be rescued sooner than we anticipated.” 

“Rescued may be overstating it a bit,” Jaime replied as he stood up and followed Brienne out of the clearing. 

“If they arrive before the royal navy, which seems plausible, we will almost certainly be able to negotiate safe passage back to King’s Landing. Your name will be more than enough to bargain with.” 

“Assuming they don’t hate my family enough to kill me on the spot.”

They arrived back at camp and Brienne immediately began setting up the shield to boil the shellfish. 

“Smugglers are usually low-born, they don’t care much about the squabbles and grudges of our Houses. They care about money. It is quite possible they are not even from the Seven Kingdoms.” 

“Fair point,” Jaime conceded, looking at the wine curiously. “I think it might be Dornish...”

Jaime attempted to wrestle with the bottle for a moment with his arm and one hand, but eventually gave up and simply watched Brienne as she filled the mounted shield with fresh water, and poured the collection of clams, cockles, and muscles in.

When steam was rising off the top, but it was not yet boiling, she came over to where he sat, and uncorked the bottle Jaime had attempted to open. She took a long sip before handing it back to him. 

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Jaime said in an undertone just before he took a long swig. He did not bother to mask his implication. 

“We will likely be off this island very soon. I would like to celebrate,” Brienne replied, evasively. 

They watched the water in the shield turn into a rolling boil and soon after, Brienne retrieved the shellfish. She laid the good ones down in a large pile between them. Under the overhang of their small hut, they ate and drank almost like civilized people. Indeed, it was almost as if they were a husband and wife, having a midday meal by their hearth...almost. 

That, to Brienne, was the strangest part of all of it – these small, casual intimacies. The sexual attraction they shared would have been strange no matter the circumstance. But these moments of profound normalcy, amid their profoundly abnormal situation were by far the oddest part of the whole affair. 

Jaime would have concurred with this thought had Brienne voiced it aloud. However, all he could think was how these small moments gave him a glimpse of what it might be like to live a married life. Not the married life of a high-born, obviously, but maybe the married life of a normal man. 

It felt like a small, stolen gift, and all Jaime could think was how he did not want to waste it. All things at equal weight, he still looked forward to being rescued and returned to civilization. He liked beds, and sturdy walls, and well-seasoned food. But this reprieve from his life as a Kingsguard, a Lannister, The Kingslayer, offered small pleasures that civilization could not give him, and he was strangely grateful.

When Brienne started to feel the wine making her lightheaded, she stopped drinking and declared, “Right, I am going to go back and signpost the way to our camp from their hiding place.” 

As she stood to do just that, Jaime asked, “By chance, did the wine happen to be stored in a box of some kind?”

“Yes.”

“Would it be easy for you to retrieve the box and bring it back here?”

“Easy enough, but to what end?” 

“I have been trying to contrive a rabbit trap with what we have, but a sturdy box would help tremendously.” 

“Ah, of course. I shall see to it.” 

Jaime nodded. “In the meantime, I think I will go back to fishing. That seems to have a better success rate at this juncture.” 

Brienne nodded and then set off, cutting across the island through the trees, gathering small rocks along the way. 

~*~

When she returned to the smuggler’s hiding place, she removed the bottles of wine and dug up the box as Jaime requested. It was harder than she envisioned it would be. It was stuck in there quite well. Her hands were filthy by the time she was done, but eventually she was successful. 

She carried the wooden crate back to the break in the grass along the shoreline, her collection of rocks rolling about inside. When she was back on the beach, she took a handful of the rocks and made the distinct shape of an arrow pointing towards their camp. 

She took several long strides and then created another distinctive arrow firmly implanted in the sand along the edge of the beach that hugged the long grass. 

She did this all the way back to their hut and returned with the empty crate to find Jaime fishing, as he promised. She put the crate down by the fire and then went to check on his progress. One large fish lay waiting in the burlap sack. 

Brienne decided rather than simply watch him, she would do some more scavenging. Going the opposite direction from her journey that morning, she grazed the beach specifically for oysters. She liked that they did not need to be cooked to be eaten. 

She moved leisurely, much of her fear about being rescued relieved. She was confident now they would be there likely no longer than a fortnight more. That was very survivable. More to the point, it was a much more reasonable timeline to keep their urges in check. 

That prospect still weighed on Brienne, however. She knew that time was a factor there, but even with a rescue closer at hand, she still was not free of the part of herself that wanted to sin with him. Nor, if she was brutally honest, did she actually want to be free of it. 

The truth was, ever since she had risen that morning, she had felt a thrilling sense of possibility floating in the pit of her stomach, one that made her feel light and heavy at the same time. She truly did not know what she was going to do about their situation, and that sense of the unknown gave every word and glance between them extra weight. 

As dusk approached, Brienne walked back to their camp. Jaime was tending the fire, two large fish next to him, waiting to be seared. They would eat hearty that night. Brienne dropped the collection of eight oysters she’d gathered gently into the sand and then moved immediately to set up the shield for cooking once again. 

As she did this, Brienne watched Jaime uncork their half-drunk bottle of wine, and take a sizable swig from it. She avoided making eye contact with him as she laid their fish on the metal to cook. They sizzled lightly, and Brienne simply stood over them, flipping each a few times with her sword until they seemed sufficiently cooked. 

Retrieving them one at a time, Brienne set them on the burlap sack to cool next to Jaime, while she took the shield off its mount over the fire. Once done, she walked back over to her companion just as he took another large swig from the bottle, looking her straight in the eye as he did so. 

Without saying a word, Brienne sat down and Jaime handed her the bottle over the food that lay between them, ready to eat. Brienne kept eye contact with him as she took a sizable swallow and then set the bottle down in front of both of them in the sand. 

Brienne retrieved her fish and put it on her lap, and Jaime follow suit almost instantly. They were still quite warm to the touch, but cool enough to eat, and within a matter of minutes Jaime and Brienne had picked the bones clean.

The silence between them built, and it was heavy, but not awkward. More loaded with pleasurable tension. Brienne took another long swig from the bottle, which had maybe a fourth of the wine it started out with left. 

She then rose to find a lose nail with which to retrieve the oyster meat. As she did so, she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, Jaime taking another long drink from the bottle. 

She quickly found the loose nail and returned to her seat. She could feel the darkness descending rapidly as she shucked the oysters, two by two, handing one to Jaime and eating one herself before she moved on to the next two. 

At the final pair, Jaime broke their fever-pitch silence to ask, “Are you familiar with the old wives’ tale about oysters?” 

Brienne shook her head as she handed him his last oyster. “What old wives’ tale?” 

Without eating it, Jaime gazed at her as if weighing his thoughts. Finally, he said, “It is probably not true but there is a myth that oysters increase people’s...carnal instincts.” 

Brienne felt a heat rise up her neck and a blush reach her cheeks as she shucked her last one and held it poised in her hand. 

She watched Jaime down his and shrug, a roguish smile on his face as he did so. 

“It’s probably not true,” he assured her again. 

Brienne could still feel the heat in her face as she downed the last oyster and stared into the fire, unable to conjure a single thing to say. Almost unthinkingly she grabbed the bottle and took another hearty swig. 

But rather than place it back in the sand between their feet, she put it on the far side of her, out of Jaime’s reach. As the tension rose, Jaime got to his feet and tended to the fire, which was starting to weaken. He added a few substantial pieces of wood to it and a fair amount of dry grass. 

With the flames at their height again, he sat down and asked, “Would you hand me the wine?” 

“I think we’ve both had enough for one evening.” 

“Yes,” Jaime replied sarcastically, “we wouldn’t want to make fools of ourselves in front of everyone!”

“You only need one other person present to make a fool of yourself,” Brienne replied. 

“Is that something you are worried about?” he asked in a low, suggestive voice. 

“Why are you doing this?!” Brienne burst out, a hint of anger amid her desperation. 

“Doing what?” Jaime asked, his tone deliberately nonchalant and inflected with slight amusement. 

“Why are you tempting this? I took you for a man of honor,” she intoned, knowing she was playing her only card with any real power. 

Jaime looked at her almost as if she had smacked him across the face. A series of small emotions marched across his face in quick succession – insult, frustration, accusation, resignation. 

In what seemed like a very deliberate provocation, Jaime leaned very slowly across Brienne to retrieve the wine bottle, keeping his eyes fully locked with hers as he did so. At his closest, his face was all of an inch from hers, and for the briefest moment Brienne though he might kiss her. 

A bout of intense arousal swept through her as Jaime leaned back again, leaving her lips touched by nothing but the cold salt air. Jaime quickly rose, the bottle in his one good hand, and headed off down the beach without another word. 

~*~

As he walked, a mix of thoughts and sensations swirled around inside Jaime. He could not remember a time when he last felt lust this strong, and the wine certainly was not making it any better. However, the way she had played his honor against him made Jaime genuinely furious. 

Had she truly not welcomed his advances, her invocation of honor would not have stung as it did. If she had wielded that weapon honestly, if what he had suggested was truly an undesired affront to her, Jaime would have felt no resentment or anger towards her in refusing him. None. 

But he could tell that was not what this was about. She had played that card against him because she did not want to be put in a position to choose. She wanted him to take on the burden of making the choice for both of them because she was too cowardly to do it herself. 

She did not want to have to tell him no, because she did not want to tell him no at all. She wanted to tell him yes, and that’s why she had done what she did. It was a loophole, a sidestep, a way for her to avoid the issue, rather than face it head-on. 

And in all the time Jaime had known Brienne, he had known her to be many things. Never a coward. And certainly not one to use a man’s sincere honor against him. 

Jaime walked for some time but was still angry when he returned to their camp. Stalking directly up to her, Jaime decided he did not owe Brienne his silence on the matter. 

“You’re a coward,” he told her flat out, without any preamble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what's coming in chapter 8? (Yes, that was a bad, intentional pun)


	8. The Detente

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne's feelings cannot be suppressed any longer.

Brienne's face scrunched up in outrage as she replied, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Using my honor to avoid facing how you feel is cowardice in my book.”

Jaime could tell the alcohol was strengthening his impulse to fight with her. But his grievance was real, so he let it.

At his accusation, Brienne stood up and faced Jaime dead on. 

“Do you not agree that it is dishonorable to seduce a maiden with no possibility or intention of marrying her?”

“It is, but you are not some doe-eyed innocent being tricked or forced against your will into someone’s bed. You are a woman quite capable of killing me where I stand, if you saw fit, and you are certainly capable of having enough self-control to say no to a man if you truly did not want to bed him.”

“You should not be suggesting any such thing to me, and you know it full well, Ser Jaime.”

“Stop it, just stop!” Jaime shouted. “You can tell yourself you are speaking on behalf of your own honor when you invoke mine, but it is a delusion and not a very well-constructed one. None of this is about duty or honor or anything remotely noble. This is about you wanting to believe you are above something you know you are not. And wanting me to aid in that delusion.”

Jaime paused, and he could tell Brienne was enraged, but all that did was urge him on.

“I do not have any obligation to help you lie to yourself. Do not make my honor a part of this issue, because it is the furthest thing from it. You want me to spare you a truth about yourself, and no chivalric code ever conceived commands I do any such thing.”

Even in the waning firelight, Jaime could see the anger radiating off of Brienne. And soon enough she succumbed to her urge to let it out.

“Kingslayer!” she screamed at him as she pushed him away with a fair amount of force, but definitely not her full strength.

Jaime stumbled backward about two steps and looked at her huffing face for a brief moment before he made up his mind.

Crossing the short distance between them, he pushed her hard in the chest with his good hand in retaliation. And when she clawed back at him, as he knew she would, Jaime deliberately grabbed onto her and unbalanced them both.

They fell into the sand, Brienne atop Jaime, both of them huffing with anger and arousal. And when Jaime pulled her head down for a kiss, Brienne did not even offer a perfunctory resistance.

Their mouths mated aggressively as Jaime did everything in his power to hold her writhing body against his. The arousal he felt was unmatched by anything he had yet experienced in his life, and he genuinely feared he would disgrace himself in his pants if she continued what she was doing to him. 

Brienne’s hips betrayed her even more than the rest of her body, which could not entertain the idea of releasing Jaime, let alone pushing him away. Her tongue invaded his mouth while her arms clawed at his back and his curved backside. But her treacherous hips were the worst of all, grinding against him in a blunt, forceful mating invitation that felt to her as if it would have been theatrical for whore. But there was nothing false or contrived about it, and Jaime could tell.

It was what was making his erection painful and his vision spotty from lack of blood. The two of them were like a spark to kindling, ablaze from first contact. As Brienne continued to rut against him like an animal in heat, Jaime trailed his mouth down the side of her neck, sucking at the soft skin there while she made unencumbered exclamations of pleasure.

Knowing they were both very close as it was, Jaime decided he needed to release them both from the agony of their sexual frustration. However, he did not want them making the rash decision to risk a child while they were in a state like this. He knew he would have to orchestrate something else.

Pulling his mouth away from her collar bone, Jaime said, “Straddle my left leg.”

When Brienne gave him a dazed look, Jaime simply urged, “Trust me.”

After a second’s hesitation she did, moving her left leg in between his two legs and her right leg to the far side of his hip. He then grabbed hold of her left hand and guided it into his breeches to take hold of his aggressively aroused cock.

He let her get in a few strokes and nearly passed out from the pleasure of it, before taking his left hand and putting it down her pants to cup at the juncture between her legs. As his fingers made their way into the folds of her cunt, Jaime could feel how swollen and slick she was, and he could imagine all too well how it might feel to put his cock inside her. Heavenly.

She rutted against his hand with a surprising amount of force while Jaime fingered at the nub above her opening which he knew held the key to her release. Brienne made loud, staccato sounds at the back of her throat as she writhed against him, still squeezing and massaging his now painful erection by fits and starts.

However, it wasn’t until she was on the precipice and began uttering his name with breathless delight that Jaime could tell he would not be able to hold it together anymore. The moment she screamed his name with a shuddering cry, her hips jerking violently from her own orgasm, Jaime felt his own body come to release in her hand.

His ejaculation felt immense, and his body gave him several aftershocks as Brienne allowed her full weight to descend upon him, her head buried in the cook of his neck as Jaime rode the waves of his own climax.

~*~

Eventually the sound of the ocean came back into her consciousness. Brienne felt just enough strength return to allow her roll over onto her back in the sand next to Jaime.

Her mind was still very fuzzy, and she was not sure yet how she felt about what had just transpired. She knew she was not angry or regretful. Pleasure like that was not possible to regret. However, she was not exactly sure how to proceed from a moment such as this.

“I...apologize for the suddenness of that,” Jaime finally said, breaking the silence with an extremely tentative tone.

“You do not need to apologize. I don’t think either of us meant for it to happen.”

Still lying in the sand, Brienne looked over at Jaime and held his gaze for an instant before looking up at the sky. In some ways their eye contact felt more intimate than what they had just done.

“I know that was likely not as you envisioned your first time. But are you at least...okay with what transpired?”

Brienne could hear Jaime’s sincere concern for her feelings, and it warmed her heart.

She locked eyes with him again, this time keeping his gaze as she said with great emotion, “I am. That was...extremely gratifying, if a little abrupt.”

“A little,” Jaime repeated under his breath, clearly amused.

“Fine, it was extremely abrupt.”

They lay in silence for a few moments, simply allowing the cool evening air to wash over them.

“We probably need to decide how we are going to handle this moving forward,” Jaime finally said, in an uncharacteristically serious tone.

“How do you mean?” Brienne asked.

“I mean, we sleep inches apart from each other every night. We are trapped here alone together for an indefinite period of time. We’re not going to stop having the urge to fuck each other. We need to decide what to do the next time this happens, because there will be a next time.” 

“I know,” Brienne conceded.

She then stood up and declared, “However, I think I am still a bit too sober for this conversation.”

She walked the few feet over to their hut and retrieved the second bottle of wine. Jaime watched her open it, take a large swig, and then sit herself back down by the dwindling fire.

Jaime immediately followed her lead, rising and throwing some dry brush and branches into the blaze before he sat beside her, took the bottle from her and downed a healthy swallow.

They passed the bottle back and forth between them in silence, enjoying the crackling of the fire and the beauty of the night sky. When about half the wine was gone, Brienne felt just comfortable enough to proceed. 

“In truth, I think we could resist our urges, if we truly committed to the effort. But given that that particular horse has already left the stables, I do not know that such restraint does anything other than make life here more frustrating and difficult for us.”

She paused and Jaime sensed she had more to say so he kept silent, listening intently.

“However, the risk of a child is one we need to have an understanding about.”

“There does not need to be any risk of a child at all. There are plenty of ways to achieve satisfaction without any possibility of a child.”

“I know that, and I think it is well and good to say that now. But look me in the eyes and promise me, on your honor, that there is no possibility we may succumb to that impulse while in the moment.”

Jaime held her gaze temporarily but soon found himself staring once again into the fire. For a woman with so little sexual experience, she had an astute read on the situation. And Jaime knew she was right.

All the good intentions in the world, all the solid convictions in the universe, can seem so trivial in a moment of intense passion. If they were planning to continue this, and Jaime wanted to with every fiber of his being, he had to concede that that risk was real regardless of their well-laid plans.

“You are not wrong, and it is a fair question. I vow to you, if a child comes of our time on this island, I will leave the Kingsguard and I will marry you. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

Brienne nodded, satisfied that Jaime understood what was at stake for her in this. She still had every intention of avoiding the issue altogether if possible. But she knew all too well – what we plan for and what happens are rarely the same thing, particularly when it comes to matters of the heart.

~*~

They finished drinking their wine and enjoyed the evening sky by the fire. However, when the bottle was empty, Jaime stood silently and offered Brienne his one good hand.

Brienne took it, her stomach aflutter as she rose and followed him to their makeshift bed in the sand. The moment she was fully prone, Jaime leaned over her and began kissing her gently and deeply. Brienne closed her eyes and surrendered to it, letting her hands encircle his head and keep it in place above her. 

She had often wondered what it would feel like to kiss a man like this, with sincere passion and unhindered abandon. She had imagined it would feel something akin to what she was experiencing now, but the real thing was so much more intense than she had envisioned. 

That warm, heavy, aching feeling rose steadily in her abdomen, causing her hips to lift up rhythmically ever so slightly. 

Soon Jaime brought his left hand up to the hem of her shirt, pushing it up to allow access to her bare skin. His fingers trailed up her stomach and came to rest on one of her breasts, teasing the nipple with his thumb. 

The sensations caused Brienne to let out a breathy exclamation and pull at Jaime to bring him even closer. Jaime continued to kiss her deeply for a moment, but soon he pushed back to pull his shirt up over his head. He let it fall into the sand next to Brienne as he leaned back over her and whispered in her ear. 

“May I relieve you of your shirt, Lady Brienne?” 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Brienne could tell there was a bit of irony to his formal address. However she did not care enough to protest. 

She nodded emphatically, and Jaime immediately began loosening the ties holding it closed. Brienne knew the actual time it took for Jaime to release her from her garment was less than a minute. However, in her excessively aroused state, it felt almost infinite. 

By the time she fully extracted her arms, Brienne was desperate to feel his body fully against hers. As she laid back down on top of her abandoned shirt, Brienne pulled Jaime down with her once again. 

He followed her lead, and repositioned himself directly above her, straddling her left leg and leaning himself on both elbows above her. Their bare torsos were fully aligned, and the excessive skin to skin contact was making Jaime’s fully upright erection jump with even more anticipation. 

Already the temptation to deflower her began to float around in his mind as he went back to kissing her intently. Jaime knew he would not succumb to it tonight...he had more self-control than that. But the weighing of that option was already nagging at him, loudly asking, if your honor is already beyond repair, why not simply leave the Kingsguard and marry her?

At this moment, Jaime was having a hard time remembering why that would be such a terrible idea. And Brienne’s next actions did not help matters. 

Pushing her hand between their aligned bodies, she started tugging at the laces on his breeches, loosening them until she could pull the whole garment down over his hips. With his cock free, Jaime lifted his hips off her slightly so Brienne could take his arousal in her hand once again. 

She did almost immediately, and Jaime let his hips follow the rhythm of her hand as it stoked with eagerness. His body screamed at him to remove her remaining clothing and bury himself inside her. Jaime ignored that impulse and instead simply enjoyed the feeling of her hand on his cock. 

Soon enough, Jaime heard himself start to make vulnerable noises at the back of his throat and decided he needed to stop making this so one-sided. He moved to pull at the laces on her breeches, and soon they were loose enough to penetrate with his good hand. The moment Jaime touched her between the folders of her sex, he felt her shudder in response. 

As before, she was agonizingly slick and Jaime felt his cock jump in her hands at the thought of putting himself fully inside her. The temptation to do it almost compelled Jaime to ask it of her. And the only thing that stopped him was the shame of looking so weak that he could not last a day without trying. 

Instead, Jaime stroked her where he knew it would feel best and her hips started moving frantically against him. She made lovely, breathy noises and eventually her pleasure overwhelmed her so strongly she could not keep up her rhythmic stroking of his cock. Instead she started clawing at his back as Jaime kept up his ministrations. 

Jaime leaned over and started biting softly at her ear, and along the side of her neck...the one without the healing scars. She let her hips move freely, as Jaime started using the heel of his hand to stimulate her while he penetrated her with two of his fingers. He could feel the walls of her cunt flexing aggressively against his fingers. 

The sensation put Jaime on the verge of cumming and he kept up the rhythm as her hips became more and more erratic. On impulse, Jaime leaned farther over and brought her nipple into his mouth. He sucked and gently teethed at the peak, and Brienne soon started spasming against his hand as she let out frantic guttural sounds. 

When her hips finally calmed, Jaime removed his hand from between her legs, her wetness still clinging to him. Desperate for release, he finished himself off with his own hand, her slickness against his cock; not a moment later, he spilled his seed into the sand right next to her hip. 

With the tension gone from his body, Jaime rolled over and laid down on his back beside Brienne. Slowly, the sound of the waves came back to his consciousness. Jaime floated pleasurably in the sensation of sexual gratification and the knowledge that tomorrow it would be the same -- just her and him, alone together, eating and drinking and fucking on the beach. 

Jaime was fairly sure the gods and heaven and hell were fictions. But on the off-chance they were real, he no longer fretted over the possibility that he might end up in hell. This was close enough to heaven to even the cosmic score.


End file.
